White Knight
by wreckofherheart
Summary: The Avatar is devastatingly easy to love. [Korra/Asami]
1. 01

White Knight  
 **1.**

* * *

'Try not to make a home out of her––ah, what I mean is: a home always stays in one place. With her, it's easy to get homesick.'

A heart, with a shaky foundation. Toppled rooftops. Sometimes a door which isn't always open. Mako wouldn't ever admit to a stranger that he had allowed the Avatar to make him feel this way. To be entrenched in this little abode he was so reluctant to pull back from.

Nothing is ever _fixed_.

'I know what's in store for me.'

The way he smiles expresses everything _but_ confidence. Reaching out, he nearly takes her hand, but quickly reconsiders, allowing his hand to drop to his side. Perhaps he has underestimated her too many times, especially now. Both she and the Avatar have been absent for over a fortnight, and he hasn't yet entertained what had occurred between them.

Maybe she does know. Maybe she does know how erratic and consuming and wonderful it is to fall in love with the Avatar. Maybe she endures much deeper feelings for her than he ever had. Still, he would hate himself if Asami committed to the same mistake he did.

That's the thing about the Avatar: they're devoted––soul and body.

Sometimes never to an actual _person_.

'Hey.' So, she initiates the affection. Grabs his hand and squeezes. 'Don't worry about me––or her. You should know how capable we are by now.'

'Yeah.' But capability has got nothing to do with it. 'Anyway. How is she?'

Externally, she's perfect. A recovering warrior, and fiercely stubborn at that. What's most impressive is the amount of damage she's able to hide. Because everything–– _everything_ ––remains trapped in a bottle, and the lid is so close to bursting. And it's all ready to pour. Like the sea, like waves; huge and gigantic and furious.

There are just some things that Korra _won't_ discuss.

It's not necessarily that she's shy. Asami has definitely noticed the slight insecurities which occasionally show, but timidness is not the concern.

Trust is the issue here.

Because while she may be able to manipulate water, the earth, air and fire, that is almost all she _can_ do. Opening up, expressing feelings; having the ability to turn to one's partner and _talk_ ––that's another skill entirely.

That's another kind of bravery.

Korra doesn't talk about what keeps her up at night. What triggers the nightmares, and jolts her awake, screaming. What spoils her appetite so she can't eat for days, and prefers the seclusion. Prefers meditation and being alone. And Korra _hates_ meditating. But, sometimes, it's the only comfortable treatment she can find.

One which doesn't push her boundaries.

Then, there's Asami. Who is patient, who is observant, and who Korra really needs.

'Better.'

When they kissed, neither knew what to expect. Whether they'd kiss, and feel nothing after all. Or, if they'd kiss, and the addiction would burn. Ignite them to the point of ripping away each other's clothes, and satisfying a desire they've harboured for so long.

Neither of those scenarios happened.

It was _soft_. And unplanned. Sort of helpless, the way Korra kissed her. Asami can safely assume Korra has kissed boys before. She has one of them sitting before her. Whether or not she's kissed a girl before, she's not sure, but that wasn't the cause for Korra's hesitance. If anything, the two have never been _more_ certain and secure in their own feelings for each other.

But when she kissed Mako, that was a while ago. Irrelevant, considering what happened afterwards.

They kiss. They cuddle. They lie together, cuddling, and it's usually silent and warm and wonderful. They don't demand anything from the other. And it's utterly mutual. The kind of love Asami would have once dreamed about as a little girl, studying her father's mechanical instruments. Wandering about this someone.

Asami can feel her punctured flesh beneath her clothes. The scars which litter her cheeks, and when she kisses her lips––sometimes chapped, sometimes cold––she wishes to nurse her back to health. Wishes to banish whatever haunts her mind. Give her the sort of happiness she's been searching for, and let her take it. All of it.

This isn't a teenage frenzy.

This is more. This is complex, and maddening, and love.

And they're not teenagers anymore.

The Avatar can never be a home. Never be that someone to return to. The Avatar is someone who vanishes, and reappears. A distracted creature, only partially in touch with the material world, whereas the rest of him or her is stranded elsewhere. Learning from ghosts, creating allies with spirits which mere mortals cannot fathom.

The Avatar is devastatingly easy to love.

* * *

An infant cries out, but the forests return no response.

The infant has cried for minutes, hours, days. _Years_. But time has no place here; not somewhere where there are no limits, no restrictions for the mind to absorb all the colour and beauty which overwhelms the senses.

She is a small thing, and her balance is off. The infant trips. Slips over. Falls on her stomach, and it hurts. It makes her cry, shudder, and call for her mother. Her father. But there's never an answer, never anybody to reach for. So, she wanders further into the forest. And the further she walks, darker it becomes. As if all the light has been squeezed from this bizarre planet; all the happiness and joy which once walked the earth––gone.

It's the trees. They block out the sunlight, and suddenly the trees are terrifying.

Panic sweeps through her, and she turns on her heel, running. But she has awful balance, and she's only just learnt how to walk. So she falls. She falls again. She falls once more, and starts to feel dizzy. She feels abused and wounded. Feels as if the world is truly unfair; and she has done nothing wrong, so all she can do is cry.

Yet everywhere she looks, it's dark. There's nothing.

It's the most terrifying picture. This picture of nothing. Of absence. Of loss.

Being alone.

So, the infant gives up. Confused, on the verge of tears, she sits and ponders over her hopeless situation. But there isn't a thing she can do to help herself. Her parents are nowhere to be seen, and there isn't anybody in sight. The infant has been abandoned. Thrown out. Left to decay and rot with the roots. Disappear into the earth.

It is a lot like a blanket. The darkness, smothering her tiny body, and clinging on.

Suffocating.

* * *

What frustrates the Avatar is that it's not even midnight yet. But her dream has forced her out of the bed, and she's wide awake. That tiny infant is painted in her mind, adorable and helpless and so _very_ familiar. How taunting that her mind pictures her younger self. Tiny, fragile and such easy prey. But does it make a difference?

At her age now, or as a baby, does it make a difference?

Because she would run either way.

An uninvited––yet welcome––presence disturbs the atmosphere. Korra turns, startled, and it's the only person she would rather meet.

'I heard you wake up.'

 _I heard you scream. I heard you flee._

In an attempt to hide the embarrassment spreading across her cheeks, Korra looks away. Leans across the bannister again, enjoying the view of Republic City. There's always something _odd_ about it at night; as if it were another dimension altogether.

She misses the South Pole. That's a certain.

An apology is about to escape, but she stops herself. 'I like it out here––come, look.' When Asami comes over to join her, she endures a rush of warmth. The sweet, delicate perfume she wears. How gentle her presence can be. The nightmares, the monsters which creep beneath the floorboards––they aren't so scary when Asami is nearby.

For Korra's sake, Asami doesn't mention the cause of Korra being awake. But the uncertainty is there, wedged between them, and Korra knows she can't hide it all for long. Not when the person she's with is _this_ caring.

This loving.

'Didn't wake you, did I?'

Asami smiles. Leans into her. 'It's okay. I'm a light sleeper.' Losing interest with the view, she considers what she wants to say. What she wants to confess. Korra feels so small beside her, and she wants nothing more than to cuddle her tight. Kiss her until her lips are sore, and she's so dazed from the affection, she has no choice but to faint in euphoria.

It would be a dream, that. Having Korra all to herself. Where no one can disturb them; not even the little things which keep them awake.

But Asami is willing to take the next step.

'You can stay with me tonight? Would that help?'

'I'd probably keep you awake,' Korra shrugs. 'I tend to talk in my sleep.'

'… but you'd sleep?'

'Maybe. I dunno. W––Why?'

Asami kisses her cheek. Korra looks at her, eyes wide with curiosity. Sometimes, she is quite like a child. Hungry for knowledge, and unhappy when things aren't entirely clear. Straightening slightly, Asami tucks a strand of hair behind Korra's ear, trails her fingers across her cheek. 'I had a friend who used to have bad dreams, too.'

Not exactly a _friend_. They had shared a bed more than once, and not for the platonic purpose. But that's not Asami's point––

'I'd help her. Help her sleep. Don't be scared by a little distraction, Korra.'

Korra frowns. 'What d'you mean?'

 _Wow_. Asami laughs slightly, finding Korra's ignorance endearing. 'You know, for somebody considered so _wise_ , I can't believe this is escaping you.'

'Huh?' Korra grins nervously. 'You've lost me.'

Perhaps blunt honesty is the only way to send the message. Asami kisses her, pulling at Korra's collar. This kiss isn't soft, but rough. A sense of urgency behind it. She grips onto Korra and kisses her with such want, the young Avatar is taken by pleasant surprise. When they break apart, Korra shudders at the sensation of Asami's breath passing her cheek.

A distraction. Just to ease the pain a little, rid of the horrors which dominate her thoughts.

To be pulled away from her duties as an Avatar, and to focus entirely on something _physical_ ––Korra has never really explored that area before. Of course, she would be lying if she denied Asami excited her. Excited her in ways nobody else has done. But committing herself to _that_? It's another territory completely; something new and waiting to be experienced.

'Let me help you.'

Korra loves her for trying. Loves her for being so generous, and a part of her wants to. _Really_ wants Asami to help. Maybe it is timidness. Insecurity. Maybe it's more than that. She exhales, recovered from their brief, heated exchange.

Reaches for Asami's hands on her collar, holding them.

To tell all of it, everything––it would be simple.

Korra kisses the corner of her mouth, and doesn't say a word. They could try, and try, and try––step into different boundaries of their relationship–– _do what they both want_ , but since everything, nothing has ever been more complicated.

This time, when Korra walks away, it's not a sign of rejection. And Asami doesn't take her withdrawal to heart. Because while she isn't allowed to picture the young Avatar as a home, a place she knows is certain and fulfilling, that doesn't negate her feelings for her.

Patience has never been Korra's strongest suit, but if that's what it takes, Asami will give her all the patience she has.


	2. 02

White Knight  
 **2.**

* * *

Over the past several years, she has come to enjoy the scent of oil and leather; the _clang_ of metal, and new engines rumbling to life.

The birth of machinery.

Men and women, coated in the dirt of their labour, walking by with more and more technology to save.

Batteries to replace, wires to fiddle with, blueprints to study.

A factory, alive with the work of its creators. They love it here. They love fixing things, discovering which is what; the parts that are not in the correct place. Operating on the engine, the body, the heart of of the vehicle, and finding the illness. Mastering a cure.

If she were allowed to, Korra would watch the workers each day. They're admirable, she thinks. How they arrive to work without fault, eight in the morning. Sharp. Eager, excited; racing with grand ideas, and wondrous brilliance they must deliver to their boss.

The Avatar sits atop one of the latest Sato inventions. A plane, capable of gliding across the water for a brief period of time. A useful trick, but a complex mechanism which requires a great deal of study and practice.

So far, it all looks successful. Korra isn't exactly knowledgable on engineering, but from Asami's positive manner in regards to her hard work, things do seem to be going well.

Whenever Asami has her mind set on a new invention, however, that does mean she and Korra spend less time together. Korra can't complain. She's renowned for disappearing for months at a time because of duty. The least she can do is offer patience, even if she misses Asami terribly.

Currently the inspired engineer is busy within the plane, a couple of colleagues helping her out. Korra waits on the wing of the plane, holding her knees, and idly observing the work which occurs. The room is huge. And this is just _one_ room of the factory. Not to mention the Sato company has many more bases across the globe. Since her father, Asami has come a long way.

Busy watching an engineer pour petrol into one of the cars, she doesn't notice Asami and her two colleagues exiting the plane. The two colleagues are given their final tasks for the day, leaving Asami be. Pulling off her gloves, she looks up at Korra, and smiles shortly.

That girl has a knack for daydreaming.

Asami throws her gloves at her, catching the Avatar by surprise. Korra blinks, takes the gloves, and glances down at her girlfriend. A grin appears: 'Y'know, a simple _greeting_ would suffice!'

'Come down. I want to show you our work so far.'

Pleased to be invited, Korra jumps down from the wing. Asami places an arm around her shoulders, and they enter the plane together. Korra widens her eyes at the glamour. Honestly, a plane like this is best suited for the upper class. Lavish, red carpets. Cushioned chairs. And is that a pool table?

Korra laughs. 'You're planning to move in here, right?'

Asami doesn't laugh, but appreciates the joke. It's no secret that Sato vehicles are very easy on the eyes. People _love_ the divine. They enjoy comfort, and luxury, especially if it doesn't demand too much money.

'You wouldn't turn her down. Don't lie to me.' Korra smirks. True: she wouldn't turn down something as grand as this. 'Anyway, nobody ever complained over a bit of amenity.'

Sighing in contentment, Korra throws herself into one of the seats. 'If I could spend my working days just doing this.' The smile falters a little. Everybody knows that the work of the Avatar is anything _but_ relaxing. And not many envy Korra for her so-called privilege. 'You, uh… You've done a good job, Asami.' She shrugs. 'I wouldn't even know where to begin with this stuff.'

'I doubt that.'

Asami sits beside her, and Korra has to admit she looks fetching in her uniform, splattered with oil and today's work. Mind, Asami never fails to look fetching anyway. That's something about her which has always amazed Korra. How somebody can appear lovely, and yet doesn't even have to try.

Since first knowing the young engineer, Korra has always felt _soothed_ by her presence. She is genuinely a laid-back woman, and not much is able to disturb her stable state.

Unlike Korra. The Avatar is aware of her anger issues, how stubborn and defensive she can be. But Asami? She's _calm_. And sure. A generous, and selfless person whom Korra would spend every day of her life with if she could.

That would be happy. A happy life.

'I won't finish until late today. Are you going to be okay?'

Korra snorts. 'When am I ever _not_?' Asami throws her a look. 'Hey, that was _one_ time, and I had it pretty rough anyway.' She shrugs. 'Listen, if I wasn't all right, I'd tell you. You know that.'

'I know.' Asami rests her hand on Korra's arm. 'But, I also know you hide things from me––don't think I'm attacking you. I'm not. I'm just here for you. I only want you to understand that.'

'I'm not hiding anything.'

Asami slips her hand away, and Korra hates the sudden absence. Maybe it's pride. Maybe. But Korra isn't a prideful woman. It's simply the idea of being _vulnerable_. Vulnerable not just to herself, but to another person. She looks at Asami with an apology in her eyes, but she can't bring herself to speak.

Many things are being hidden. Too many things.

Korra leans back in the seat. Brushes her fingers across the armchair, its soft material. Her heart skips a beat, and she forces a smile: 'Fly me away?'

That makes Asami laugh, at least. 'You're ridiculous.'

'I mean it.' Korra swallows. Inhales. 'I wouldn't mind. I kinda wish we could go away together again––somewhere. I mean, I know you got stuff to do here, and so do I, but I wouldn't complain.'

'When we're old and grey, then yes. Sounds like a plan.'

'Does it?'

'Korra.'

They meet in a kiss, and Asami tastes of the coffee she'd been sipping earlier. Instantly a powerful thrill floods through her, and Korra needs a moment to catch her breath. They could kiss each other until the end of time, and she would still need time to recover.

To breathe.

Asami kisses just below her earlobe, and whispers: 'I'll take you anywhere.'

It's the most wonderful idea. Korra wraps her arms around her, and they cuddle tightly. She closes her eyes, and falls into her, wishing her closer. Closer still. For them to shut away the rest of the world, and be in each other's arms like this.

At least for another hour.

Korra breathes her in; sighs.

 _I dream that I'm a little girl again, and I can't find my way home. I dream that I'm lost, and that I'm going to die. I dream that I will wake up one day, and you will no longer be there._

But she doesn't say anything. Clings onto Asami for only a moment longer, before allowing Asami to return to work. As they pull away, Asami reaches for her hand; squeezes once.

Homeless. That's the dream.

* * *

The media eats up the latest news, addicted on hearing about the Avatar's most recent heroic act. As far as Korra's concerned, it's nothing particularly newsworthy, but everybody is desperate to hear.

A band of thugs had entered Republic City, abusing their Firebending abilities, and threatening to rob multiple stores. For the most part, they were successful, gathering as many supplies as they could find until their bags were close to bursting. The police struggled against their skilful bending.

Being able to manipulate all four elements certainly has its uses.

Korra doesn't want to remember what it was like. What it was like to fight, and lose. To fight against herself, her own horrors, and swim to the surface. Sometimes, the waves are so fierce, it's impossible to reach for air.

These thugs are not difficult. It doesn't take long until she manages to subdue them all by herself. Leaving it up to the police to deal with them afterwards, she disappears before the paparazzi arrive.

Nevertheless, the entirety of Republic City knows by the end of the day.

Korra's initial plan is to wait for Asami's return. It is unlikely much will be discussed between them; Asami will undoubtedly be exhausted from today. Still, it's what they do for each other. They wait.

Mostly to pass the time––and, _no_ , she won't follow Tenzin's advice on frequent meditation––she writes to her parents. She doesn't reveal much, but the fact she's returned from her sojourn, she's healthy; no word from Mako or Bolin yet, however she is sure they're safe too. Korra doesn't know if she's prepared to mention Asami; now definitely isn't the time.

She is halfway through writing the letter when fatigue gets the better of her. The Avatar has barely slept these past few weeks, and the urge cannot be resisted. The pen drops her hand, and she's asleep.

And, at first, it's pretty, and bright; and the spirit world ushers her closer. Invites her in, to explore its depths, the mysterious which keep it so vibrant and homely.

Until the little child has to run again. Until all of the bright colours and smiling faces disappear all around her, and the dark reaches out. Grasping and pulling, and desperately trying to grab her. She's small, and her legs aren't able to carry her far, but she's a determined tiny thing, and the dark _scares_ her.

Suddenly, a hand wraps itself around her tiny body, and she falls––

'Korra!'

Immediately Kora wakes up, and instinct makes her grab the nearest thing. What she grabs is lighter than expected, and she hears a gasp; a person. A woman. Korra opens her eyes.

It isn't terror, but shock; _concern_ which Asami expresses. 'Are you okay?'

How can she ask her that? Korra lets go of her collar. Stands from the chair, and holds herself. She's trembling all over, and she can't _stop_. 'I––I didn't hear you come in. Did you just get here?'

'What's wrong? Did you have another bad dream?'

Korra presses her back into the wall. She feels like the child in the dream; vulnerable, defenceless. Incapable of escaping from whatever that _thing_ was. Korra doesn't look at her, trying her hardest to calm down. Gather her thoughts, somehow fabricate what actually took place.

But Asami isn't a fool. She comes forward, and holds Korra's face between her hands. 'What was that about?'

'I'm sorry.' Korra already starts to feel better, however she's still trembling. The pictures in her mind won't vanish, and she realises she's clinging onto Asami a bit too tightly. 'Sorry, I––yeah. Just a dream.'

'It didn't seem like _just_ a dream.' Korra doesn't say anything, so Asami dares herself to push the topic: 'You were talking to yourself. It sounded like you were panicking, or trying to get away from something, so I had to wake you.'

'No, I––You must be tired. Can I, uh, make you something?'

Asami grabs her wrist before Korra can walk away. 'Hold on a minute.' She won't bother to go into the bizarreness of Korra offering to cook them a meal. She can't even _cook_ for starters. 'What are you hiding from?'

Korra stops.

Hiding from.

 _Everything. Just_ _ **everything**_ _._

She looks at her, and her heart falls to the pit of her stomach. There's Asami, rings under her eyes, and beyond tired, who refuses to take a moment of rest until she's certain Korra is all right.

They stand, silent, watching the other. Waiting for one of them to speak, but Asami has said all she can. It's Korra's turn now.

'I'm sorry. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable.' Asami closes the gap between them, kissing her mouth. Soft, as always, but too brief. 'I just––' she tries a smile, but it's sad; helpless. 'I wish you would talk to me.'

Hurting her would be a nightmare in itself, and Korra isn't capable to make that a reality. Not after everything they've been through; established together. Not after everything Asami already knows, which nobody has heard about. The trauma Korra suffered, her recovery.

Losing all of that, losing _her_ , is unbearable.

Korra wraps her arms around the back of her neck, and kisses her. Every time Asami is kissed by the Avatar, it's always new. Sometimes tender, sometimes rough, sometimes desperate like this moment. Korra doesn't hold back, and holds onto her dearly.

They kiss again, and Korra pushes herself into her, deepening the buss. She's half conscious of Asami's hands passing her collar, across her stomach. Korra's breath catches when Asami presses her palms into the small of her back, feeling her tense muscles and how she's so _stiff_. Almost like a statue, needing to be loosened and gently calmed.

Both are tired. Sore from the day, the week; the entire year. Asami finds Korra's hand, and intertwines their fingers. Korra responds to her affection, kissing her cheek, her jawline, her lips again. Asami sighs into the kiss, and brings her arm around Korra's waist.

To balance her, to keep her close; to urge her not to leave.

'I'll talk,' Korra whispers, a slight pout forming. 'Just––gimme time. I'm not good at this sort of thing.'

Asami kisses her again; lighter. 'It'll be okay. Promise; I'll wait until you're ready.'


	3. 03

White Knight  
 **3.**

* * *

Spirits dance around her, like silhouettes; the world is a canvas, splashed with all the colours which the mind can muster. They giggle, and adore her. Caress her cheeks, call her the sweetest. For a moment, she is loved by strangers; by creatures which transcend the very laws of physics.

Then, it is time for the spirits to leave. Time for the sunlight to disappear, and hatred and fear and every other toxic emotion to feast on the land. The world around her becomes infected; dark and forbidding. And she wants to hide away, lose herself; find a cave, a hole, a shelter to protect herself in, and never come out. The little girl starts to cry, and it is exactly as always.

Running has become strenuous. The little girl grows frustrated. Angry. Upset. She had made such wonderful friends with the spirits, and then they abandoned her. They left her here in the dark. And she's _angry_. Heartbroken. The little girl can't _believe_ her friends would walk away from her, give up on her; stop _caring_ about her. She doesn't deserve to be loved.

It is the forests she hates the most.

The trees hate her also, shadowing down on her; like tall giants, glaring at their disappointment. And they taunt her. Call her names.

 _Weak. Pathetic. Useless. Lonely._

 _Destructive._

She doesn't know why their remarks hurt so much. But they're enough to cause the little girl to collapse in despair, hold her knees, and cry. Cry until her eyes are sore, and exhaustion takes over. She cries, and cries, staring up at the black sky, and a voice _screams_ inside her head.

 _Let me out._

 _Let me out._

 _Wake me up!_

A whisper. Somebody is whispering, and she looks up, eyes wide with fear. A creature of some sort is moving towards her. The little girl gasps and struggles to stand, but she can't. She's immobile, and terrified, and she sobs. A tiny, fragile thing. Helpless and unable to defend herself. There's nothing she can do, but watch this figure step closer and closer.

What she witnesses is an angel.

Tall, with long, dark hair. But a soft face, and kind eyes.

As if on instinct, the little girl reaches out for her, and, in response, this angel lifts her up. Gently holds the little girl in her arms, and the child immediately feels safe. The angel wipes a few stray tears from the infant's cheeks, and says something the infant doesn't understand.

But she knows they are loving words. Because when the angel speaks, the little girl smiles, and it's the first time she's ever smiled in these woods. The child rests her head on the angel's shoulder, enjoys the moment of being held and protected. With this angel by her side, she is no longer alone.

This wonder woman.

A home, for her.

* * *

And it's exactly like that in the dream.

Korra doesn't jolt awake. Not once has she needed to scream, escape the confines of the sheets. There isn't a single ounce of fear in her body when her eyes open. Still half-conscious, she rolls over, and that's when she feels her.

In the little light, Korra can't see much, but knowing Asami rests beside her is all the assurance she needs.

As her eyes adjust to the dark, she gazes at Asami, how sweet she looks; how she is able to rest, soothed in her dreams; whatever they may be. Korra blinks, sighs softly. What kind of strength does it take to be this woman? Someone who had every reason to loathe her, but did exactly the opposite. Even after losing her father, her last living relative, there's still something to live for.

Korra hesitates. Shuffles closer, and cuddles into her. Asami is warm, inviting; completely flawless in her eyes. If Korra could live like her, even for a day––if _everybody_ could live like Asami for a day––then the Avatar believes the world would be a much better place.

But not everybody possesses that kind of will. The ability to forgive, try again. Not everybody is like the girl who rests beside her. Broken, but still walking forward. Korra doesn't envy her for that. Doesn't envy Asami for the things she, herself, cannot overcome.

She just _loves_ her, and it's a confession so close to ripping from her throat.

The angel in her dream isn't a stranger, after all.

Korra buries her face into Asami's top, and tries to ignore the sting in her eyes. How her lungs feel crushed, and she can't quite find the air to breathe. So, she exhales slowly, and allows herself to cry quietly.

When Asami stirs, Korra is about to pull away, wipe her moist cheeks, but Asami stops her. She pulls Korra towards her body, tangles their legs together; she's not about to let her go, regardless of Korra's uncertainties. This is what the Avatar needs. Not recognition, or rest, or awards for her heroics.

She needs a hug.

She needs to be loved.

Korra is shaking in her arms, and it's painful to witness her in this state. But it's something Asami won't take for granted. Korra rarely, if ever, reveals her vulnerability to anybody. Not even her closest friends. But with Asami, it's not so easy to mask her emotions.

They pull away a little. Asami kisses Korra's forehead, and looks down at her; she caresses her cheek with the back of her hand. Korra smiles, but it's a small smile, and it barely lasts.

'What did you dream about this time?'

Korra could describe the forests, the spirits who abandoned her; could talk about the angel who arrived to save her. Her throat narrows, and she would rather stay silent.

(Yet, she would rather tell her _everything_ that happens in that realm everybody else is forbidden to enter.)

'This time it was you.'

Asami frowns, puzzled. 'Me?'

'Yeah. You came along and took me away––I wasn't scared anymore.'

'Oh.' She softens her expression. 'Maybe you should dream about me more often?'

Korra smirks. 'I wish I could.' Drops her gaze. 'I wish I could stop dreaming altogether. I don't know why they hurt so much.'

The Avatar's breath catches. Asami takes her hand, and rests it a little above her breast. Korra is still, feeling the beat of her heart. A constant rhythm, so delicately protected beneath her own palm. Korra can hear it too. The motion penetrates through her whole body, and she meets Asami's gaze.

'We all hurt, Korra. That's what makes you human. Don't be afraid.'

A wave of emotion overwhelms the young Avatar. She suddenly remembers to breathe, and her hand stays put.

'I'm not afraid when I'm with you.'

They are simple words, which don't even come close to how Korra currently feels. Because her body _shudders_ from every emotion Asami causes her to endure, and it's _wonderful_. Such a fulfilling, whole and _real_ sensation.

'Come here.'

Korra barely hears her, Asami's voice is so soft.

They're kissing, and this time, finally, Korra is _relaxed_. Nothing forbids her from this kind of affection, and she welcomes Asami's kisses with enthusiasm. She pictures the spirit world they entered together, hands held, brimming with excitement. And it had been one of the most joyful occasions in her life.

That had been the same for two weeks. Just them, lost in a world filled with beauty and solace. Korra was able to heal quickly. Quicker than normal, and while it might have been the isolation from the outside world which helped, she owes it all to the woman kissing her. If fate allowed them, they could return. Maybe they will. Maybe they will disappear into the spirit world.

Never come back.

Korra sinks into the mattress, and pulls Asami down onto her. They tangle themselves, sharing deep kisses. All the emotion she's bottled within her these years is ready to come loose. Asami whispers something, but Korra can't hear her; she's blind, deaf, _senseless_. Lost and clinging onto her, kissing her and kissing her, fingers lacing through her hair.

The buttons on Korra's shirt become undone. Korra inhales, suddenly very self-conscious, but Asami kisses the bare skin. Passes her lips across her shoulders, her collarbone, her stomach; kissing wounds which are still healing. Korra exhales sharply, and a smile reaches her lips.

It feels good to be touched gently.

Asami has gone quiet, and returns to kissing Korra's mouth. 'You don't have to stop,' Korra murmurs against her lips.

'What gave you impression I wanted to?' They kiss. Hands stroking, touching each other. Korra struggles with Asami's top. She's fumbling too much, and her hands won't stop trembling. Asami smiles, amused. 'You've clearly done this many times before, haven't you?'

Korra pouts. Asami kisses her jawline.

'Shh. Don't worry about me yet.'

A shiver travels up Korra's spine, and she holds onto Asami while she lowers herself. Korra decides to follow Asami's advice, resting her head against the pillow, sighing at how her lips flutter across her skin. When Asami focusses attention to her breast, Korra gasps, eyes wide.

But it's a shock which doesn't last. She turns her head away, and loses herself. The sensation of Asami's tongue sends a shock through her body, and she moans quietly. It's astonishing what this woman can do. She has barely done anything yet, and Korra can hardly contain herself.

When Asami returns to kiss her lips again, Korra wraps her legs around her hips. They kiss with more urgency, breaths hot and heavy. Korra arches her back slightly when Asami's palm delicately presses against her warmth. Another sigh escapes her, and she captures Asami's lips with her own.

She's everywhere. Everywhere. And it's the most amazing touch. Korra continues to kiss her, hands searching for where to hold her. She chooses her arm, her other wrapping around the back of her neck. Korra closes her eyes, and as Asami starts to apply a little more pressure, touch her in a way Korra didn't think was possible, she falls into the sheets, clinging on.

Nothing is rushed. It's soft, gentle; completely tranquil, and they move tenderly into each other. Asami watches Korra, how she struggles to hold back any kind of sound; of course she fails, and her moans send a shudder through her. Asami kisses her, kisses her again, and encourages Korra to let go.

Just as she reaches her peak, Korra pulls Asami closer, kissing her hard so as to silence any noise. It breaks through her effortlessly. Even when she tries to cover her moans, the note which escapes her is high and desperate.

Korra retreats, catching her breath. Her hands fall from Asami, and she blinks in a daze. It's such an adorable look, Asami can't help herself. She kisses her again, softly this time; and she smiles.

'In your dream, what did I do?'

Korra manages to calm down. She looks at Asami; pictures the same forests. The angel who held her, saved her. 'I was a child, and you found me.' She twitches a smile. 'Kinda true to reality, y'know?'

'Yes. It is.'

'Thank you.'

 _Thank you for finding me in the dark. Thank you, for you._

Korra encourages Asami to rest her head on her chest. Their legs still tangled, bodies warm, and hearts beating. Korra runs her fingers through Asami's hair, and it's enough to send her lover to sleep. She feels herself beginning to fall into her own fatigue too, but she stays awake. For just a moment longer.

Until she can hear Asami's breaths grow even, until she's certain that Asami dreams too, and that when Korra wakes up––Asami will be there, wrapped in her arms, and it will be all the home they need.

* * *

 **author's note** : Hey there. Thank you so much for your support so far! I do feel this will be a short story, but expect frequent updates.

Also: if you have a Tumblr account, do find me. It'll be nice to follow fellow LoK fans. My url is wreckofherheart!


	4. 04

White Knight  
 **4.**

* * *

Freedom.

That is the best way she can describe it. She sits across from her lover, hugging her knees, watching. In her own way, she has enjoyed observing Korra meditate. Although her work focusses entirely on the physical, the spirituality of the Avatar has always left her in awe.

It is as if her very soul has departed from this realm, and disappeared into another. Nothing can disturb her, and it is entirely her choice on whether she returns to her body or not. The philosophy behind it all perplexes Asami, but she understands what is happening. The soul and the body––while she might have considered them one and the same, they are, in fact, apart.

Seperated. Ready to disperse into another vessel once the original form has died. Korra has told her about Avatar Aang, the other Avatars before him––how they're all connected, all the same soul. The same self. A link, going back to hundreds and hundreds of years ago. Capable of communicating with each other, if in the correct state of mind.

Korra stirs, and opens her eyes––suddenly alive. Immediately she senses Asami's presence, and smiles at her. 'Hi.'

'Hi.' Asami looks at her fondly. 'Where did you go?'

'Nowhere far.'

Still seated in the lotus position, Korra offers her hand for Asami to take. Asami stands and walks over, intertwining their fingers, before leaning into her. Korra sighs, wrapping her arm around Asami's waist, resting her head on her chest. They stay like this for a while, holding each other.

As Asami delicately runs her fingers through Korra's hair, she realises this is what love must feel like. Tender in her palms, and _constant_ ––where this is nothing between them, but loyalty, faith––an intimate understanding of each other.

It's after the excitement, the frantic pulse; it's after the thrill of simply belonging to someone. This, what this is––it's mutual, whole and it doesn't demand anything. The sort of comfort which sends her to sleep; the security of knowing that when she wakes up, she won't find an empty space beside her––escaped in the night.

Korra has given her that. The _only_ person who has given her that. Her mother is someone Asami barely knew, burnt to ashes before she was able to voice words. Her father, brainwashed in his ideologies, abandoning her over crazed politics. Any past relationships have either been for the sake of convenience, or a hopeless cause.

Love came from three strangers: two orphaned brothers; and a naïve, young girl.

Wisely, Mako advised Asami not to make a home out of Korra. He knows, firsthand, what it is like to love her; the complications which arise due to her own faults. And his too.

Making a home out of Korra wouldn't be a secure refuge; for either of them. The Avatar may create their own family, may find love, but the Avatar's heart is always pulled; always demanded by different elements in their life.

But Asami doesn't care.

The moment she walked into the spirit world with Korra, she knew _exactly_ what would happen. She knew what falling in love with the Avatar meant, what that meant for her. Upon first meeting Korra, she might have hesitated. Might have reconsidered her options, and believed there would be no point in loving somebody who can't give her everything in return.

It isn't about that anymore. After losing the last of her family, after fighting a war; after waiting for hours and hours a day by the Avatar's bedside, _praying_ for a recovery, it so isn't about the amount given.

They are inextricably happy together. They feel safe together.

And they trust each other.

It is something so crucial to any relationship, Asami just can't picture herself with anybody else. She has never endured loyalty like this. Because even if the Avatar has to be absent at certain points, that doesn't negative their commitment. Their desire, devotion; what makes them love.

'You've been thinking about him.'

This takes Asami by surprise, but perhaps Korra's assumption shouldn't come as a shock. The Avatar are very sensitive to emotion, especially that of somebody they are close to.

Asami sees no point in shrugging the matter off. She pulls away slightly to look down at her. Yes, she has thought about him. She has thought about her father, his death; how it seemed possible they might be able to rekindle what was lost. But he was gone before any opportunity like that arose. Her throat narrows, and she lifts her hand to wipe an escaping tear.

'I'll be okay.'

Korra isn't entirely convinced. She loosens her legs, and shuffles to the side, giving Asami room to sit. Asami does, and watches idly as Korra holds her wrist, her fingers gently tracing patterns across the back of her hand. It is oddly soothing; Asami rests her head on Korra's shoulder, and they're quiet for a brief time.

Until Asami breaks the silence: 'I'm relieved he didn't die like my mother had. At least it was quick.'

'What happened? To your mother.'

'A Firebender killed her. I was very small when I saw it happen. I don't really remember very much.'

Except for the stench of burnt flesh. The wails of her mother. Never her face, never her sweet touch; all which echoes in her mind is the sound of death. A rotting torment, fixed in the back of her mind.

'I'm sorry, Asami.'

'Don't be.' She raises her head, and smiles sadly. 'It's not your fault.' Asami drops her gaze. 'That was something my father couldn't grasp. The fact you're not all insane like that Firebender was. You've always used your abilities for good. I really liked that about you. It was one reason why I––why I had to turn against my own father. You were right. He was wrong.'

Korra wishes she had been closer to her back then, but perhaps it simply wasn't their time yet. Even so, she regrets not being more supportive. Not entirely appreciating the amount of loyalty Asami was giving her. Everybody around them was dying, and the person who suffered most was the girl beside her.

It's enough to break her heart. Watching her cry.

Be it about her mother, her father; be it about Korra nearly losing her own life as well.

Asami's hands are trembling when she wipes her moist cheeks. She doesn't look Korra in the eye; doesn't think she can bear to see her expression too. It would only hurt all the more. Her exhale comes out shaky, but she manages to find her voice. A little shattered, but strong:

'Don't die.'

Korra reaches for her. Kisses her cheek, her lips; her closed eyelids. The tears which scald her wonderful face. She holds her, pulls her towards her, and holds her. Asami presses her face into the crook of her neck, resting her palms against Korra's back. Holding each other, until it hurts a little less; until Asami can breathe again, stand and keep moving forward.

'I'm not going anywhere without you.'

Asami raises her gaze, smiles briefly––sad, but thankful––and lightly kisses her cheek. Brings her arms around the back of her neck, and cuddles her again. Korra responds, breathing her in; holding onto her until it's all going to be okay.

Until she knows, absolutely knows, that Korra has no intention to depart.

To abandon her. Just as Asami wouldn't.

* * *

'Come home with me––for a little while. Just a little while?'

For the South Pole, the white blanket covering the land; frozen waters, and icy ruins. Come home where it's safe, where family is; where they can be left alone for a moment longer.

Asami holds her hand.

With each other, they would happily go anywhere.


	5. 05

White Knight  
 **5.**

* * *

Before she falls, the Avatar catches her.

The ice beneath their feet travels on for miles. Seracs, coated in white, rule the skies; puffy clouds touching the tips. Everywhere she turns, there's snow; pure, and beautiful. The sun has descended below the peaks, casting a shadow across the landscape. A silent, gentle breeze runs through her hair; a cold bite, enough to make her shudder.

A smile reaches her lips. Korra is laughing at her lack of balance, and witnessing her like this, at home––it's special. Perhaps a gift the Avatar rarely enjoys nowadays. Everybody misses home. Be it a place, a thing or a person.

Due to it being a temperature she's accustomed to, Korra doesn't notice the chill. Her blue, heavy overcoat is enough to defend her from the cold. However, being born in the Fire Nation, Asami doesn't cope as well as her partner does.

With ease, Korra glides across the ice. She takes Asami's hand, encouraging her to follow, turning to watch in case she slips again. There's this adoring look in her eye. She gazes at Asami so warmly, Asami feels close to blushing. Pressing her heels into the ice, Korra stops, holding Asami around the waist. She's still grinning, still amused that this bright, skilled engineer has such awful balance.

'Don't get cocky.'

Korra snickers. 'I wasn't expecting much from you, anyway.'

Asami punches her arm playfully, which only results in Korra laughing again. It's such a wonderful sound, echoing around them. Asami leans into her, resting her head on her shoulder. 'You're awful,' she murmurs. Korra tightens her embrace.

'That the best you got?'

Asami twitches a smile, but doesn't answer. She idly plays with the fur around Korra's lowered hood, pressing into her just a little more to absorb her heat. But, eventually, the temperature no longer becomes an issue. Korra _is_ warm. And she's soft, lovely to touch and rest against. In her arms, Asami studies the landscape, the high mountains; frozen water.

'I used to create fountains from the lakes.'

Frowning, Asami raises her head to look at her. 'What do you mean?'

'Let me show you.'

Asami widens her in horror when she realises Korra is about to Waterbend. 'No, wait––!' However, when the ice cracks, neither of them fall into the water. Korra manages to break the ice from behind, and it's a clean, definite slice. Without allowing the water to rest, Korra releases Asami and her hands seem to telekinetically lift the liquid.

It is fascinating, watching her bend; how the water becomes a part of her, so easy to manipulate in her gentle grip. Asami watches the water rise, before shooting into an elegant fountain. Water bursts from the crack, and Asami gasps when small drops fall around her. The fountain continues to burst with cold water, a deep, gorgeous blue.

'How do you do that?' She whispers, more to herself.

Korra hears her, though. She smiles crookedly, motions her left hand forwards. This causes water from the fountain to travel towards her, and she manipulates it to swirl around Asami, a little like a dance. Curious, Asami reaches out, and the water rushes past her fingers; waves splashed across her palm. She laughs quietly in disbelief. Many times she has witnessed the multiple kinds of bending, but like this, and so personally––it honestly takes her breath away.

Suddenly, the water departs, returning to the fountain Korra has allowed to leave be. 'But that was nothing,' she says. 'Could do that when I was a kid.'

'Show off.'

'Wh––No! I'm no show off.'

Asami rolls her eyes. 'Yes, you are.' She catches Korra by surprise, and kisses her. 'Regardless, it was–– _beautiful_.' She watches the fountain, the water pit-pattering across the ice. Returns to look at Korra. 'You really are,' she confesses.

 _Beautiful_. Utterly beautiful. Korra's bashful side gets the better of her, and she stumbles on her words. 'So are, uh––so are you. I've always thought that.'

It had always been there. How they'd notice each other.

Perhaps not romantically at first. But they noticed, and over time, it became more than simply _noticing_. Because when Korra performed all the elements an Avatar can manipulate, she was breathtaking. Entering the mental state only an Avatar can access had been such a beautiful, if not frightening event to witness. How the natural order of the world had taken ahold of her, made her a weapon, unbeatable–– _beautiful_.

For Asami, while she is lovely to look at, it was about her kindness. Loyalty, if not stubbornness to remain by the Avatar's side. Even when Mako made a mess of things, or her father's words had started to make _sense_ to her, she stayed with Korra. Witnessing the gruesome death of her parents, this amazing soul remained _sane_. Able to stand and move onwards.

They both fought. They both lost. They both recovered.

They healed each other.

Korra takes her hand, and guides her away from the ice. They reach the snow, and their boots dip into the powdery blanket; buried. Asami holds onto her, eyes wide in awe at the seracs which dominate the land. The sky has darkened. A heavy blue, stars littered across; the moon, just about to arrive, bright and wild. It grows cold quickly, and Asami shivers; white puffs escaping her parted lips.

The walk home is less than a mile. Korra has been offered shelter, close to where her parents sleep, but there is no threat this evening. The few inhibitions will rest peacefully, and it's such a delayed luxury for both of them. A light remains on in one of the huts, but, aside from that, it's pitch black in minutes. Asami follows Korra into their small shelter, wraps her arms around herself once entering the door; desperate to bring warmth back to her chilly body.

The Avatar takes sympathy. She leads Asami further in, closer to the unused fireplace. Korra kneels before it, quickly ignites a fire with a swift motion of her hand. Immediately the flames crackle, eating away at the wood greedily. The shelter is given some light, and Asami kneels beside her, welcoming the heat. She sighs, content. She has stopped shivering. The cold no longer has an effect on her, and the shelter turns cosy. Safe.

'I love it here,' Asami whispers.

Korra raises a brow, surprised. Flattered. 'Really?'

'Really. As you can imagine, my father wasn't fond of the Water Tribe––' she lowers her hands. Takes off her gloves. '––but, I'd always been curious. How you lived in such conditions. I'm very sensitive to the cold, but I do love it here. It isn't––' She stops. Bites down on her lower lip.

 _It isn't frightening here._

 _There are no maddened men, ready to burn people to ashes._

 _Nobody screaming in agony._

Korra softens her expression. She can't begin to imagine what Asami has been through. Not for one second does she take it for granted that her parents have survived so long. And Asami has nobody left. Her heart cracks, and she feels helpless. For this wonderful woman, she would give anything. Revive her father if she could. If it would make her happy.

While Asami gazes into the fire, holds herself against the chill, Korra reaches out. Tucks a few strands of hair behind Asami's ear, allowing her fingertips to brush her cheek. Asami inhales, closing her eyes. Scarlet spreads across her cheeks: warmth. And Korra imagines Asami's younger self. Small, like she was, lost somewhere. Watching her own mother die.

It was only a matter of time until her father would follow.

(Trapped in this fear of being alone. What Korra knows all too well.)

'We could stay here. Grow old.'

Asami smiles, daring herself to hope. 'Could we?'

Korra swallows, and even _she_ knows she's talking rubbish. Asami has a huge business to run, and Korra has her own commitments. In this life, and in the next. 'Yeah. Why not?'

It is nothing but mere fantasy. Running away to the north, where their only company is snow, and the moon, and family. Where they could throw aside everything, their entire past, and just live together. Kneel by the fire, hold each other, every night. Grow old, as Korra promised. Grow old, and die together. Happy. Just happy, and that's all they need to be.

Happy.

Asami is struck by Korra's naïvety. How very _human_ she can be if she allows it. Struck by how fiercely the Avatar cares, so willing to push aside the world, just for that one person.

 _One_.

Her.

'I love you.'

Korra exhales. Relieved. Knowing. Completely vulnerable.

Asami looks at her. Blue, vibrant eyes. Small, childish smile. Faint, old scars written across her sweet face. This wonder. This beautiful, amazing, troubled soul whom she'd die for. The confession stays; Asami's words echo in Korra's mind, and she's lost in a daze. Lost in her. Lost in everything she is, and nothing––no emotion, no person, nothing––has ever amounted to what she is. What she means.

( _Everything._ )

There was a time when this woman did not exist in her life. A time when she just _wasn't_. Too far away for Korra to reach, to know, to understand. And that terrifies Korra beyond words; knowing there was a time in her life when Asami did not exist.

Pale skin, dark eyes, _alive_.

Korra kisses her forehead, hesitates; kissing her temple, her nose, her chin, and then she kisses her lips. Pulls back briefly, looks at her; shudders at the sensation of Asami's fingers through her hair. She bumps her nose into hers accidentally, bringing her in for another kiss. Another kiss. Stopping between, as if asking for permission each time.

When they break apart, reluctant, Asami exhales. Sweet across her cheek.

'You're really warm.'

Korra twitches a smile, thumb passing Asami's lower lip. 'Come closer, then.'

They find each other. Hands pressed to their clothes, removing them slowly; lips pressed to naked skin, searching; discovering everything they can about the other. Korra's palms are soft, delicate and hesitant as she peels away Asami's overcoat. She grins against her lips, amused by the amount of layers her lover wears, but it's wonderful. So absolutely perfect.

Nothing has felt more freeing. Korra's armour is stripped away, dented and old. Pulled from her back; dropped carelessly to the floor. She gasps into their kiss while Asami's hand gently squeezes her breast; brings her arms around her waist, tightening her hold on her. Korra responds with equal enthusiasm, taking away her last layer, and sending kisses from her collarbone, between her breasts, down to her naval. Asami sighs in contentment, and they tumble to the floor.

Korra spreads her palms down Asami's stomach, her skin so soft, like velvet. The Avatar has witnessed so many wondrous things in her life, but nothing compares to this. To her. She leans down, kissing her neck, biting gently. Asami stiffens, letting out a moan. The noise alone drives Korra crazy, and she catches herself smirking. Asami is so phenomenal, pressed against her, touching her hips, her breasts; touching her in places which makes her breathless. Startled beyond reason.

It's the warmth of the fire, the heat of Korra's naked body. Asami has forgotten the chill entirely, utterly safe. She holds Korra's face between her hands, kissing her deeply; her palm passing the curve of her breast, what protects her heart. Their limbs tangle together, so no room is left between them. Korra clenches a fist at the sensation of Asami's fingers passing her warmth, and she can recall just how this woman makes her feel. How delirious she makes her with the slightest touch.

They catch each other in another kiss, and Asami pushes Korra onto her back. The wood feels hot on her flesh, but she pays no heed. Asami parts Korra's legs a little more, before kissing her in-between. Korra turns her head away, closing her eyes; facing the fire. Korra's breath comes out in a shudder when Asami's tongue enters her, and she's never felt anything like it before. Never felt so _with_ another human being; as if they were one in themselves. Together. Inseparable.

It doesn't take her long to reach her climax, and she cries out, back arched, and _tugging_. Asami kisses her mouth, looks at her; strokes her cheek, her chest, and she's wonderful. If there were any breath left in Korra, it would have been taken from her. She takes her, kisses her hungrily, and smiles. Words are simply _useless_.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, could describe what she feels for this woman. How much she adores her, needs her, _loves_ her. In this moment, the world revolves around her, and Korra has every intention to attend to that demand.

They switch positions. Cradle each other, kiss and caress.

Still new to this, Korra requires Asami to guide her a little. But the moment she finds her, touches her, they both gasp; both stop, look at each other. Asami lightly kisses Korra's lips once; a signal of her consent, her want, her need for Korra. Korra's eyes flutter shut, and she breathes, rocking into her. Asami moans, sighs, strokes her palms up Korra's waist.

They are engulfed in each other. Stranded, yet found. Holding each other close, so close their bodies might _burn_. Together, they rock, discovering a pace. Tied. Korra opens her eyes, watches as Asami knocks her head back. Clings onto her, reaches for where her hand strokes her clit. Takes her wrist, pushing her closer.

Korra's heart is so near to bursting, and she quickens a little; but she's tender. Soft. Patient with her, allowing her to enjoy this; _have_ this.

Give her everything if she could.

Asami's moans increase, and she throbs against Korra's fingers, whispering for more. Her toes curl and her voice spikes and in their beautiful solace, Asami's hand finds Korra's and she comes apart, a wail breaking from her. Korra shudders, letting out a moan, the euphoria drawing her into a daze. She feels Asami's palm against her cheek, and then they're kissing again. Korra falls into her, straddling her hips, her breasts pressed against hers; hands still holding tight.

They allow a brief amount of time to catch their breath. To recover. Asami brushes Korra's hair out of her eyes, kisses her nose. Whispers: 'I love you. So much.'

Poetry to her ears.

Perfection. And it is. _It is perfect_. Korra brushes her cheek against Asami's, closes her eyes, and they cuddle. Meet in another kiss, their hands caressing the other; before Korra falls back against the floorboard again.

They have each other. Over and over. Rocking into the wood, hands held, and the flames to keep them warm.

* * *

Snow batters against the window. A sound Korra has slept to on many occasions, and even finds peaceful. Tucking the sheets over them, she holds Asami from behind, her chest pressed into her back. Asami stirs, reaching for her hand. The room is stuffy from their lovemaking, but they're snug; cuddled up together like pieces to a puzzle.

'I love you, too. I always have.'

Asami turns. Just to look at her, touch her face; kiss her. She's loved. _Loved_. Completely. And it's simple; it's wonderful, and the joy in her heart is almost overwhelming.

While the last of her blood might have dispersed this world, family still waits. Family still holds her hand, cuddles her beneath the sheets.

And the Avatar's bruised heart is in the palm of her hand.


	6. 06

White Knight  
 **6.**

* * *

 _The skies are deceptively radiant._

 _An infant enjoys the heat of the sun, her palms pressed into the grass. She clenches her fists around the blades, and tugs, tearing them from their roots. Opening her hands, she admires how the green scatters from her possession, and blows away in the breeze._

 _She has been here for some time, waiting._

 _Mama said she'd be back soon._

 _But it's been a while now._

' _What're_ _ **you**_ _doing here?'_

 _Looking up, she sees a girl a couple of years younger. Arms folded, pouting. Deeply offended. 'I'm just waiting,' she replies. Nervous, but frustrated this girl be angry at her for no reason. 'Mama told me to wait.'_

 _The girl frowns. Considers the situation, before shrugging. 'Okay!' She announces. 'I guess I'll wait with you.' With that, she sits down beside her, resting against a tree. She's a small thing, a round face and stubby little legs. Perhaps not much older than four._

' _What's your name?'_

' _Me? I'm the Avatar!'_

' _Uh…'_

 _The Avatar widens her eyes. 'You don't know who the Avatar is?'_

' _Papa told me the stories. Isn't the Avatar able to master all the elements?'_

' _Yeah!' She points to herself. 'That's what I can do! Wanna see?'_

' _Ah, I––I should wait for mama.'_

' _Fine.' She folds her arms, and quickly loses interest. This girl is the Avatar? Surely not. She's too small. She's only a little girl, and she's bolshy at that. Papa never described the Avatar as rude, or bolshy, or a desperate show off. The Avatar looks at her from the corner of her eye, and she looks away. 'Are you gonna tell me your name?'_

' _Asami. Is––is your name really the Avatar?'_

 _She grins. 'My name's Korra. But I_ _ **am**_ _the Avatar, and don't you forget it.'_

' _I won't. I promise.' Asami says nothing for a while, watching her. She tilts her head. 'You can really bend water and everything?'_

' _Pft––yeah. Easy.'_

' _Really?'_

 _Korra nods, proud. But a pout slowly forms. 'Except for air.' She sighs, slumping shoulders. 'That's one's hard.'_

' _Why not air?'_

' _I dunno.' Suddenly, the Avatar's confidence disappears a little. Air is her weakest spot, but without the ability to bend air, she has no right to call herself the Avatar. Hugging her knees, she doesn't speak, staring ahead. It's a remarkable contrast to her cockiness beforehand._

' _Maybe I can help?'_

 _Korra looks at her with a peculiar expression. 'You're not an Airbender.'_

' _I know, but… That doesn't mean I can't help you.'_

 _The Avatar stares, hesitating. For a moment, Asami thinks she might have won her over, but the girl narrows her brows. Unconvinced. 'Not even my teacher can help me,' she mumbles. 'Thanks, I guess, but I don't think you can help me. I don't think anybody can.'_

' _All right,' Asami sighs, disappointed. 'Then, tell me what you're good at.'_

' _Huh?'_

' _What else can you do, oh Master?'_

 _Korra visibly blushes at Asami's mockery. She scowls. 'Don't make fun of me!' Asami giggles at her reaction. 'I––I'm good with water. And fire.' Immediately Asami's smile disappears, and she goes frighteningly pale. Korra frowns, but out of concern. 'What's wrong with you?'_

' _I… I…' She stands up, pulls at her sleeve. 'I don't think mama is coming back.'_

 _Korra blinks up at her._

' _I think––' Asami gasps, wide eyed, and starts to panic. 'I––I––I think I shouldn't be here. I––' And that's when she realises where she is. This isn't any place she's been to before. There are no people here. The skies are a peculiar colour, the grass is much too green, the trees talk, and––_

–– _and spirits surround them, dancing around them. Friendly, smiling and kind._

 _This isn't home at all._

 _Asami doesn't know where she is, and she's terrified. 'I got to go home. Tell me how to get home!'_

' _What're you talking about?'_

' _Where's my mama?' She wraps her arms around herself, tears leaking from her eyes. 'Papa. Where'd they go?'_

' _Don't cry!' Korra scrambles to her feet, and runs over. Asami is a good few inches taller than she is, but she reaches for her hand. 'I'll stay with you until they come back.'_

' _I don't think they_ _ **are**_ _coming back.'_

' _Oh.'_

' _And I don't know where I am.' A sob breaks from her, and she wipes her tears with the back of her hand._

 _Korra looks around, helplessly wondering where this girl's parents might have vanished to. But a part of her knows they won't be coming back. She looks at Asami again, and realises just how useless her bending abilities are in this situation. Asami doesn't care about the elements she can manipulate. She cares about her family, where they might have gone._

 _Just wants to go home._

' _You're in the spirit world.'_

' _What? What's that?' Asami sniffs._

' _Uh, it… it's kinda like inside the head. Where all our bad and nice thoughts are made real. I guess.' She shrugs, not too sure of herself. 'But, you're safe.'_

' _I am? How do you know?'_

 _Korra realises she doesn't really have an answer. 'Um.' She thinks hard, tapping her finger to her lower lip. 'Well, 'cos I'm here to protect you.'_

' _Okay.' Asami wipes any stray tears, and inhales deeply. She calms down. The spirit world isn't scary anymore, and maybe her parents will return. She just has to wait a little while longer. The girl smiles sadly, 'Can you wait with me until papa comes back?'_

 _Korra nods. 'Yep!' The little Avatar encourages Asami to sit back down again, beside the tree, and there, the two of them wait. They wait for two souls which will never return. Certainly not in this life, but in another life perhaps. When their own souls have departed from themselves and discover another vessel, waiting to burn with life for the first time._

 _Although she doesn't understand Airbending, the little Avatar is willing to protect this girl with everything she has. She knows this girl is important to her. Significant and completely crucial. So, the little Avatar waits, holding her hand, and hoping that Asami's mother or father might reappear. Return from wherever their souls have departed to. Where the mist is too heavy, too deep; lost._

 _Eventually, Asami falls asleep. The girl has waited too long, and she's exhausted. So the little Avatar stays awake, just for her. Alert for any potential danger, the sound of a mother's footsteps._

 _All is quiet._

 _Not a single sound is heard, and she watches the spirits dance around her; painted in all colours of the world. A dreamy smile reaches her lips, and she reaches out to touch one._

 _Eventually, Asami wakes up, except years have passed. She's taller, older, and when her eyes open, she knows they're not coming back. Her mother and father have dispersed from this world._

 _Her head rests in the Avatar's lap, and Korra's eyes are still open. Still guarding, still waiting. Korra, too, is older. Less confidence in herself. Tamed. The name Avatar nothing but a scar across her bruised body. And when Korra looks down at Asami, she smiles––apologetic, sad, but she smiles as if she's known this whole time._

' _It'll be okay,' Asami whispers, smiling too. Tears rolling down her soft cheeks._

 _Not all of her family have gone._

* * *

Sunlight drags Asami out of her slumber. Her arms are still wrapped around Korra's middle, with only the sheet to protect them. Tears sting her eyes, and she scrunches them shut. A light sleeper, Korra stirs, but Asami only holds her tighter.

'Don't,' she says, voice quiet. 'I don't want you to go.'

Korra blinks; puzzled, concerned. 'I'm not going.'

'I dreamt about you.'

' _Oh_ ,' Korra cringes. 'And?'

Asami's heart flutters in her chest, and it's the most euphoric sensation. Pressed to Korra's body, she feels warm and safe; not a single thing can harm her.

She is _loved_.

She is unconditionally and maddeningly _in_ love.

Nothing compares. This kind of love with Korra does not compare to any other. There are no buts, no ifs, no uncertainties, no guilt. It is solely their hearts, intertwined, and their happiness.

In this lifetime, and in the next, and then the next––it would be Korra. It would be Asami. _They would choose each other every time._

Asami kisses her shoulder. 'I'm just glad I have you.'

'Heh.' Korra smiles crookedly. 'Cute.'

The Avatar turns, now able to look at her. She strokes her face; kisses her.

'You've got me,' Korra says, flicking Asami's nose playfully. She grins; eyes bright, and blue and wonderful. 'And I'm glad I have you.'

Without Asami, Korra wouldn't have been able to heal. Overcome a haunting trauma. Feel whole once again.

Discover the very thing which make her human.

They embrace each other, and Asami smiles, her family safe in her arms.

* * *

END.

* * *

 **author's note** : I loved writing this story from start to finish. Thank you so much for the feedback received! I will undoubtedly continue writing for these two, so I'll see you all next time. Ta-ta!


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